


Bury All Your Secrets (In My Skin)

by TheGaySmurf



Series: Life Is the Moments We Make (The Seconds We Take) [14]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Deleted Scenes, Extended Scene, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Sexual Content, instead of continuing to avoid them like they did all season, it's time they finally had some of those emotional conversations, rated for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 05:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/pseuds/TheGaySmurf
Summary: (Set as an extended/deleted scene for 3x05, a direct continuation of the events between Nicole and Waverly at the end of the episode.)Avoidance is their biggest shortcoming, and for once, they manage to stand their ground and address their issues, allowing for an all new level of intimacy.((Please note:  There is a brief mention of suicidal thoughts during one conversation, as per the canon of what happened between Waverly and Jolene in the greenhouse.))





	Bury All Your Secrets (In My Skin)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flyingfanatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingfanatic/gifts).



> Fic title: "Snuff" - Slipknot  
> Intro lyrics: "Shake It Out" - Florence + the Machine
> 
>  
> 
> Anyone who knows me also knows I was frustrated with the lack of communication between WayHaught during Season 3. There were many things they needed to have legitimate adult conversations about, but none of them ever happened.
> 
> In this extended scene, they finally break through the walls and discuss the many things that have been eating away at both of them. Which, consequently, strengthens their connection and heightens the level of intimacy they share with each other.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to Fly, who suggested that I write this scene to fix things after I had expressed disappointment with the lack of follow-up for several of the issues that were touched on in this episode. This fic wouldn't exist without your endless support and encouragement. This one is for you, buddy.
> 
>  
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

**_Regrets collect like old friends_ **

_Here to relive your darkest moments_

_I can see no way, I can see no way_

_And all of the ghouls come out to play_

 

_And every demon wants his pound of flesh_

**_But I like to keep some things to myself_ **

_I like to keep my issues strong_

_It's always darkest before the dawn_

 

_And I've been a fool, and I've been blind_

_I can never leave the past behind_

**_I can see no way, I can see no way_ **

_I'm always dragging that horse around_

 

_Our love is pastured, such a mournful sound_

_Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground_

**** _So, I like to keep my issues strong_

_**But it's always darkest before the dawn**_

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m sorry.”

They’ve circled back around to this.

Nicole had shown up at the Homestead with gifts spilling out of her arms and apologies spilling out of her mouth.  There had been an uncomfortable feeling bubbling in her chest with every _sorry_ that she’d given, but she’d gritted her teeth and peered around the floral arrangement, pink and red and orange and white, and managed her best dimpled smile through the multiple bunches of Mylar balloons that were thumping and bumping around her head.

Waverly had giggled and grabbed the pink and red gift bag dangling from her fingers and dragged her up the stairs to the quiet space of her room.  Nicole had blushed and shrugged with every new present Waverly had pulled from the bag: the pink plush teddy bear, holding his heart in his hands; the serious card with the flowers on it, and the cute one with the puppy that just said _I Screwed Up;_ the little pink and purple canister with her favorite vegan sweets.

She had showered Nicole’s face with kisses while carefully arranging the items throughout the room.  Unicorns and rainbows and purple, heart-shaped apologies floating in the corner by the bed; flowers and teddy bears and glittered stationery apologies on the trunk by the window; more flowers on the dresser and another red balloon attached to another bear offering more apologies on the footrest that sits against the wall next to it.

Every surface of the room is covered in apologies.  Nicole can’t seem to escape them.  A _Sorry Party,_ Waverly had once called it.

At least they aren’t wearing hats.

Both of them had felt the exhaustion of the last two days pulling at their bones, so they had slipped into soft pajamas and warm fuzzy socks, and settled down at the foot of Waverly’s bed.  The comforting weight of Waverly’s warmth nestled against her chest had temporarily loosened the knot that had formed beneath her ribs, and for a while, the mood has been lighter, the space between them filled with playful kisses and overly exaggerated flattery.

But here they are again.  Back to the apologies.  And Nicole finds it hard to draw air, her lungs calcifying with every breath.

“I’m sorry,” Waverly says again, her voice steeped with a rare tone of seriousness, and Nicole’s palms start to sweat.  “Sometimes things are…  are _so_ completely nuts.  And you… you…”  Her brow is furrowed and drawn, and all semblance of a smile slips off of Nicole’s face.  “Well, you seem… _okay._   And sane.  And safe.” 

Nicole can feel the panic rising.  Starting at her fingertips and crawling up her arms and wrapping around her spine.

“So I forget to give you the ‘completely nuts’ update…”

_Nope._

No way.  She is not doing this.  Not right now.

But at least there is one thing she’s learned with certainty over the past year: Waverly Earp will do just about anything to avoid having a real conversation about complicated things.  Even when Nicole is practically begging her to do so.  In fact, she’s even rather predictable in _how_ she goes about the avoidance.  She either finds a reason why she suddenly needs to leave, or she changes the subject and…  _distracts_ Nicole with other activities.

It usually frustrates Nicole, even though she always attempts to rein it in, trying to give Waverly the space she needs to process things.  Hoping that soon, she will be ready to open up about the entire _herd_ of elephants in the room they keep dancing around.  It’s one of the things they need to work on the most when it comes to their relationship.

But today, she’s going to use it to her advantage.

“Yeah, you know what?” she breathes, letting her voice drop into the sultry register that she knows _always_ gets Waverly’s attention.  Her hand slides up into Waverly’s hair, pulling her closer.  She ignores the slight hint of confusion that plays across Waverly’s face.  “How ‘bout you just… uh... update me later, ‘kay?”

She leans in close, their noses bumping, and she waits.  Waits for what she _knows_ will happen next.

Waverly hesitates briefly, and for a moment, Nicole wonders if she overplayed her hand.  But then Waverly’s lips quirk up into a grin and she smiles into a kiss and Nicole allows herself to smile back, because Waverly brings her hand up to cradle her cheek and Nicole knows she was right.

She pulls Waverly further up into her lap and wraps her arms a little tighter around her waist and kisses her more deeply.  Getting lost in this is exactly what she needs in order to bury the darkness that’s clawing at her insides.

It isn’t until her fingers slide up from Waverly’s hip and begin to slip beneath her shirt that Nicole feels Waverly’s hand drop to her shoulder, gently pushing her away.  Nicole pulls back, confused, and Waverly lets her forehead rest against Nicole’s while she tries to catch her breath.

“Hey,” she pants, bringing her hand back up to Nicole’s cheek.  “We should…”  Nicole watches her eyes flick back and forth hesitantly, warm in the soft light filtering through the window.  “We should talk about this…”

Of fucking _course._

Nicole has been waiting almost a year for this.  For Waverly to face a scary and intimidating subject head on instead of dodging it like she always does.  For them to establish a line of communication that runs deeper than _‘You taste like my Waverly again,’_ and ‘ _I had the weirdest dream that you were married.’_   She’s been waiting nearly a year, despite the fact that there has been a time or two when she’s wondered if they will _ever_ get to that place.

Of _course_ Waverly would choose _today_ to prove her wrong.

“We should talk about how good you look in these pajamas,” Nicole tries again, leaning in to trail a line of kisses from Waverly’s ear to her neck.  “And how good you’d look _out_ of them,” she adds as she brings her hand back down to Waverly’s hip, dipping a finger just beneath the edge of her sleep shorts that have ridden scandalously high up on Waverly’s leg.   She traces the hem all the way to the crease of Waverly’s thigh, and grins as her lips press against the rumble in Waverly’s throat when she begins to softly stroke the delicate skin there.

“Nicole… Hey…” Waverly eventually murmurs, breathless, as her fingers gently wrap around Nicole’s wrist and tug her hand back out from under her shorts.  She brings it to her lips and kisses Nicole’s knuckles to ease the sting of her interruption.  “Something’s been bothering you.  Talk to me…  Please?”

_“God,”_ Nicole huffs out, the vice-grip she’s been struggling to keep around her frustration finally faltering as she drops her head back against the bed.

The regret is swift and sharp, slicing directly through her ribs and straight into her heart.  Waverly stiffens in her lap, the concern slipping from her face, and Nicole is certain that Waverly’s eyes just grew a bit dimmer, despite the warm light infusing the room.

She feels like Champ fucking Hardy when he used to tell Waverly to shut her brain off so she could cater to his _needs,_ and _that_ makes her feel even worse than she did when she’d yelled at Waverly in the station yesterday afternoon.

“Wave, wait…” she starts, leaning forward again, but Waverly is already slipping off of her lap and hunching in on herself, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.  “I’m sorry.”

Nicole reaches out, but drops her hand to the shaggy white rug when Waverly makes no move to take it. 

“I wasn’t…”  She sucks in a deep breath, even though it sticks in her throat.  “I mean, aren’t you usually ready to just jump straight to the making up part?  Someone once told me that _make-up sex was the best sex,_ right?”  She raises an eyebrow and lifts her shoulders in what she hopes is a charming shrug.

“You’re deflecting again, Wayne Gretzky,” Waverly says flatly.

“Honey, Wayne Gretzky is–”  Waverly levels a glare in her direction, and Nicole’s shoulders fall.  “Right.  Not important.”

“You can’t keep deflecting like this,” Waverly says, her voice a little softer this time.  “It’s…  It’s not healthy.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Nicole mutters, pulling her own knees up and leaning back against the bed again.

“I…” Waverly hesitates, scooting closer to Nicole.  “I know,” she admits as she leans against Nicole again.  Out of reflex more than anything else, Nicole lifts her arm and lets Waverly tuck herself securely into her side.  “That’s why I can see the signs.  You’re holding something in.  You have been for a while now.”

Waverly is warm against her side, but right now, Nicole feels like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water over her head.  She doesn’t _want_ to talk about what’s bothering her.  Doesn’t want to remember what happened.  Doesn’t want to think about the nightmares that have been haunting her.  Doesn’t want to admit that Jolene had been right about a few things.

Her fingers dig painfully into her palm as she clenches it against her thigh while she stares at the ceiling, unseeing and silent.

“Baby…”  Waverly coos softly, reaching over to take Nicole’s fist in her hands.  She pulls it across until it’s resting in her lap.  “I know that you’ve always been my rock, and I know that sometimes I take advantage of that.”

Nicole doesn’t say anything, and Waverly begins to carefully uncurl each of her fingers, forcing Nicole to relax her grip until the tendons in her wrist and forearm loosen and retreat.

“I get so swept up in all of the traumas from my past…” she continues, beginning to lightly stroke the calloused skin of Nicole’s palm.  “I’m still adjusting to the fact that you have your own, and that they’ve all been rushing back at once.”  She slips her fingers between Nicole’s and squeezes her hand gently.  “I want to be your rock, too, Nicole.  I want to be here for you.”  She reaches up with her other hand and tilts Nicole’s chin until their eyes meet.  “But you have to let me in first.”

To let someone in, she would first have to admit that she’s vulnerable.  Weak.  Unable to handle it on her own.  And that’s not something that Nicole has ever been good at.  It’s something that, quite frankly, terrifies her.  She’s supposed to be the strong one.  The tough one.  The one to shoulder the weight for everyone else. 

Not the one who wakes from horrifying nightmares in a cold sweat every night, hair stuck to her face against a tear-stained pillow.

She pulls away from Waverly’s grip, pressing the heels of both hands against her eyes until she can see fireworks bursting behind her eyelids, trying to stop the burn that’s building there.

“Baby… Hey…”

Nicole feels Waverly slip out from under her arm and push herself to her feet.  When she doesn’t hear anything else, she finally looks up to see Waverly standing there with her hands extended.

“C’mere,” she says, wiggling her fingers.  Nicole is frozen in place, her hands sliding back from her eyes and into her hair, gripping it tightly.  “Come with me,” Waverly prompts again.

Nicole watches as her arms stretch out toward Waverly, like someone else is lifting them for her, and allows Waverly to pull her up from the floor.  She follows numbly as Waverly tugs her around to the side of the bed, and follows her down when she settles in the middle of it with her arms open.

Her feet are hanging off the end of the bed at this angle, but her head settles into the crook of Waverly’s shoulder, and when she feels Waverly remove the clip from her hair and begin idly threading her fingers through it, scratching lightly at Nicole’s scalp, her stuttered breathing begins to even out.

Waverly holds her this way for several minutes, murmuring softly in her ear, and it isn’t until Nicole’s fingers begin to ache that she realizes she’s been clutching desperately at the silky camisole top of Waverly’s pajamas.  She forces herself to let go, curling her arm up under her chest, and Waverly wraps her other arm around Nicole’s shoulders to keep her close.

“It was so cold.”

Nicole shivers when she says it, like her body is remembering the night it happened even though her mind is struggling to do so.  Waverly reaches around to pull the blanket up over them.

She can’t believe the words are coming out of her mouth.  It’s like she’s hearing someone else say them, a faint echo from somewhere far away.

“I was in the woods.  Away from the fire.  It was so cold, but I just kept going.  All the way down to the river where we left our canoe.”

Apparently they’re doing this now, whether she wants to or not.  The dam has broken.

“When you were running from the attack?” Waverly asks, encouraging Nicole to continue.

“No, I was…”  Nicole frowns, trying to recall the sequence of events.  She tilts her head up on Waverly’s shoulder so she can look at her.  “I was already away from the camp when that happened…”

“Do you remember why?”

“I…”  She fidgets absentmindedly with the fingers of Waverly’s free hand, resting across her belly.  “I don’t...  I’m not sure?”  It feels like she’s trying to watch a movie on a projector, through a cloud of fog.  “I was always a curious kid.  Had to investigate everything.  It’s part of what eventually made me want to be a cop.”  She focuses on Waverly’s face again.  “I think…  Maybe I thought I heard something?  And I went looking for it?  But I can’t remember for sure.”

Waverly nods, waiting patiently for Nicole to set the pace.

“My aunt and uncle had been talking to some of the other adults we’d met at the festival.  They were sitting around the campfire and I was bored and…”  Nicole squeezes her eyes shut, trying to remember, but eventually shakes her head.  “I don’t know.  I just remember walking through the woods toward the river.  And it was really cold once I was away from the fire.”

She shivers again, and Waverly instinctively pulls the blanket a little tighter around them, her fingers never ceasing to run through Nicole’s hair.

“I thought I saw something.  It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like a man.  In dark leather.  Like the kind my uncle had for his motorcycle.  I thought maybe it was him, looking for me.  I was going to go back to the camp.”

Waverly brings her hand up to cup Nicole’s cheek, her thumb brushing away a single tear that has trickled down from the corner of her eye.

“There were so many screams.  They echoed off the trees and were swallowed up by the night.”  Nicole shudders uncontrollably.  “And then silence.  Chilling silence.  I was so scared.  I wanted to run back to my aunt and uncle, but my feet carried me to the canoe instead.  I don’t…”  She squeezes her eyes shut.  “I don’t even remember getting into it or how I launched it from the shore.  I just…  And then there was...  _someone..._ ”  She turns her face further into Waverly’s touch.  “Someone was there later.  They pulled me out of the canoe and wrapped me up in something.  A blanket?  Or a big coat maybe?  I remember finally being warm again.”

“You don’t remember anything about what happened after that?” Waverly asks, shifting slightly so she can press a kiss to Nicole’s forehead.

“I…”  Nicole wracks her brain for a minute, but shakes her head again.  “Not really.  It’s all kind of a blur.”  She looks back up at Waverly.  “It had to have been Black Badge, right?  There to clean things up?  They must have set the fire not long after that, before anyone else could find any of the evidence.”

“And that was the story you and your parents were told…”

Something passes over Nicole’s face, darkening it with more than just pain of the memories.

“Yeah,” she says stiffly.

“Hey,” Waverly says softly, still stroking Nicole’s cheek.  “I know you and your parents don’t…  you know…  see eye to eye on things now, but…  Don’t you think it might be worth trying to contact them?  Maybe there’s something else they can tell you now that you know more about what to ask?”

The anger that’s been bubbling in her chest since yesterday immediately rises to the surface again.

“It won’t do any good, Waverly,” she snaps, pulling away until she’s on her back, glaring at the ceiling.

“Whoa, hey…” Waverly starts, taken off guard by the sudden shift in Nicole’s temperament.  “What’s–”

“They won’t talk to me about it,” Nicole cuts her off, biting out the words through her clenched jaw.  “Nobody _ever_ talked about it.”

“Nicole…”  Waverly pushes up on her elbow so she can see Nicole’s face again.

“No!” Nicole insists firmly.  They’ve been making excuses for their behavior since she was a child.  She’s not going to have her girlfriend doing it for them, too.  “I had nightmares about that night until I was in high school, and they _still_ wouldn’t talk to me about it.  Everybody is _always_ shutting me out of _everything.”_

There it is.  This thing that’s been lodged beneath her ribs, pressing into her lungs and her heart and her spine.  She’s finally put words to it.  Given it a name and spoken it into existence.

“Nicole, what–”

_“Don’t,_ Waverly.”  Her voice isn’t raised.  In fact, it’s quiet and calm and even.  It sends a chill down her spine.  “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

Waverly doesn’t respond, and Nicole stubbornly ignores the way her body has flinched and stiffened on the bed next to her.  She rolls roughly onto her side, turning her back on Waverly and facing the window so that she won’t see how the force of all the pent up turmoil Nicole has been carrying around with her is causing it to leak out of her eyes and down her trembling face.

“My parents wouldn’t talk to me about it, no matter how much I was struggling with it,” she grinds out, the words lodging in her throat, making it difficult to swallow.  “They were never anything if not selfish.  And when I decided later that I wanted to be a cop so that I could dig into it myself, they stopped talking to me altogether.”

The silence in the room is deafening, and Nicole feels like she can’t breathe from the way it is closing in on her.  She has no choice but to continue, just to keep the ringing out of her ears.

“When I got out of the Academy, I felt drawn to Purgatory.  I thought it would be a fresh start.”  Her fingertips are digging painfully into her palm again.  “But it was more of the same.  I got _literally killed_ by Jack-the-fucking-Ripper, and _still_ I was made to feel like I was crazy.  Told to keep my nose out of things that didn’t concern me.  Threatened with _treason,_ for fuck’s sake.”

She half expects to hear a protest coming from behind her, but there’s nothing.  Nothing but the pulsating silence that’s taking on a life of its own now.

“Doc, of all people, eventually told me the truth, and Dolls begrudgingly agreed to deputize me.  I thought maybe things were _finally_ going to be different.  Maybe I would finally know what the fuck was going on, and actually be able to do something about it for a change.”  Something bubbles up in her chest, and she tries to swallow it down, but it ends up coming out as a strangled sob.  “But then three days later, you made another decision to cut me out of everything, and once again, I was left standing there with my dick in my hands.”

Nicole feels the bed shift briefly, but then there’s nothing else.  She draws a shaky breath, and her voice wavers when she speaks again, barely above a whisper.

“And you…  You were struggling with something, Waverly.  Something _terrible._   And you couldn’t even tell me.  Wouldn’t let me help you.” 

She doesn’t even try to fight it this time when a violent sob wracks her entire body.

“I thought that after Mikshun…  After Hypnos…  After the Widows...  After Alice…”  The words are heavy with regret and resignation, settling around them like a dense cloud.  “But even now, you and Wynonna still…”

“The things you said at the station yesterday…” Waverly finally says, her voice thick and hoarse.

A pang of guilt rises in Nicole’s gut immediately, sharp and painful.

“I’m sorry that Jolene goaded me into yelling at you like that, Waverly.  I am.  That should never have happened.  But…”

“But you’re not sorry for _what_ you said.”

Nicole hates the way Waverly’s voice sounds so quiet and distant.  She hates way she can feel the insecurity radiating off of her in waves.  Everything within her screams for her to spout more apologies.  To keep applying more _sorry_ Band-Aids to the open wounds. 

But she can’t.

She can’t do it.  Not now that it’s simmering in her blood, fueled by every tainted apology that has spilled involuntarily from her lips in the past two days, sour in her mouth.

She is here.  She’s part of this town and she’s part of the team that fights demons and she’s part of this misfit family and… and…  she’s part of Waverly’s life. 

_And I can’t do any of those things properly if everyone keeps shutting me out._

The bed dips again, and Nicole expects to hear Waverly telling her to get the fuck out of her house.  To hear her footsteps walking away.  To hear the door slamming with finality.

What she doesn’t expect is to hear the barely audible _‘you’re right’_ whispered against the back of her neck.

She definitely doesn’t expect to feel the warmth of Waverly’s body pressing against her back, and Waverly’s arm snaking around her waist.

Her body goes rigid, cautious and unsure.

“You shouldn’t have to feel sorry for that,” Waverly says, her breath washing over Nicole’s ear.  It makes her shiver with uncertainty.  “You’re right.”

“Waverly…” she manages, and it comes out more like a question, because the gears in her mind have ground to a halt.  This is…  She doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Waverly wraps her arm tighter around Nicole, and her body betrays her because it begins to relax into Waverly’s embrace against her will.

“Wynonna and I…  We…  We get so wrapped up in things.  And sometimes…  Sometimes a part of me gets caught up in everything that’s happening, and I forget.  About everything else.”

Nicole’s muscles immediately pull tight again.  Rationalization and being forgotten about.  Not what one hopes for in a situation like this.  Waverly just settles in against her more fully, though; even drawing her knees up behind Nicole’s.  She’s awfully small to be the big spoon for someone Nicole’s size, but she can be surprisingly effective at it when she wants to be.

She’s surprisingly effective at _anything,_ if she puts her mind to it.

“But that’s no excuse,” Waverly continues, her cheek pressed into Nicole’s back now, resting comfortably between her shoulder blades.  “Because there’s another part of me…”  She sighs, and Nicole feels her fidgeting absentmindedly with one of the buttons on the front of her pajama shirt.  “There’s another part of me that _wants_ to leave you out.  Wants to protect you from everything this stupid town throws at us.”

“Waverly…” Nicole grinds her teeth so strongly it makes the muscles in her jaw ache.  She’s not a _child,_ and she doesn’t need to be protected.  She swore an oath and she wears a badge and she carries a gun. 

_Champ’s right, Waves.  You’re dating a cop now.  We go where the danger is._

“I know,” Waverly is quick to say.  “I know.  That’s not fair.  And I’ve learned the hard way that just because I don’t tell you about the things that scare me doesn’t mean they won’t come after you anyway.  Jack of Knives.  The Widows.”  She fidgets with Nicole’s button a little more.  “Jolene.”

Waverly’s hold on Nicole slackens a bit.  She’s doubting herself now, and Nicole hates that, too.

“You have the right to know.”  Nicole feels a wet spot seeping through the back of her pajama shirt, smearing against her spine and her shoulders.  “You deserve the chance to be prepared for whatever is coming after us as much as any of the rest of us do.  You’re right to be upset, and I…  I’m sorry, Nicole.  I’m so, so sorry.”

Nicole’s resolve finally breaks.  The anger that had been coursing through her has finally subsided, and her limbs feel heavy now, weighed down with sorrow and regret.  She turns in Waverly’s arms and draws her in.

“I know,” Nicole whispers as she tucks Waverly’s face into her neck.  “I know you are, baby.  Just…”  She pulls Waverly closer, wrapping her arms tightly around her shoulders and waist.  “Just _please_ don’t shut me out anymore.  I want to be there for you.  And for your sister.  I _need_ to be there for you guys, Wave.  But you have to _let_ me.”

Waverly nods against her neck, sniffling as she trembles in Nicole’s arms.  How did they get like this?  If they could just learn to _talk_ to each other…  Nicole rests her cheek on the top of Waverly’s head, breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo.  She hopes this is a step in the right direction going forward, but it’s still going to take a lot of effort on both of their parts.

The constant gaslighting from the dessert-crazed demon certainly hadn’t helped, either.  Nicole still doesn’t quite understand how Jolene had managed to pull off her puppeteer act against all of them like that, but she shudders every time she thinks about not being in full control of herself.  First the vampire glamour and now this.  It’s a disturbing trend that Nicole is definitely not a fan of.

“Jolene…” she asks after a while, her hand still rubbing soothing circles into Waverly’s back.  Just the mention of her name causes Waverly’s grip on the collar of Nicole’s pajama shirt to tighten.  “What…  What _was_ she, Wave?”

“A _demon,”_ Waverly seethes, her face still buried in Nicole’s neck.

“I know, but…  But how did she do…  _that_ to us?”  _And how can we keep it from happening again?_ she doesn’t say out loud.

“I don’t…  I don’t know,” Waverly admits quietly.  She sighs heavily, and Nicole thinks it feels like she’s deflating in her arms before she shifts enough that she can see Nicole’s face.  “She was…  I don’t know.  A changeling, I think?  She was born at the same time I was.”

“Wait, she was…”  Nicole frowns, trying to process.  No one ever said anything about Michelle giving birth to twins.

“No, not _born_ born.”  Waverly must have followed the train of thought as it moved across Nicole’s face.  “She said it was the universe’s way of restoring balance.  Something about how I ‘came from the light,’ so that meant that she…”

Nicole uses her thumb to wipe away the trickle of tears that’s trailing down Waverly’s cheek.  She doesn’t find it difficult to believe in the least that Jolene tried to place the blame for everything on Waverly’s shoulders.

“Nicole, I think…”  She turns her face more fully into Nicole’s touch, the tears flowing freely now.  “I think my father was a demon,” she whispers, like if she says it too loudly, it will confirm the truth.  “Mama said his name is Julian, but Jolene said there was a darkness, and… and…”

“Waverly Earp, you listen to me,” Nicole says, tilting Waverly’s face until she can rest their foreheads together.  “I don’t care _who_ your father is.  It could be Lucifer himself, and it still wouldn’t matter.  _You_ are the light.  _My_ light.  Looking at you is like looking directly into the sun.  You brighten everyone around you, baby.”

Nicole does her best to radiate the strength and steadiness that she knows Waverly needs, but it’s not enough.  Not right now.  Nothing is.  Waverly shakes her head and turns her face away from Nicole’s again.

“She…  She said that everyone else would be better off if I just…”  Icy dread begins to slither its way up Nicole’s spine when Waverly shudders violently in her arms.  “If I just…  _ended_ it.”

For a moment, Nicole feels like the world has tilted sideways.  Like she might fall right off the bed and right out of the house and right off the earth itself.

“Oh, Waverly…” she breathes, tasting salt on her own lips now.  She rocks Waverly in her arms, despite the awkward position, and wishes there were something – _anything_ – she could do to take this pain away from her.  To make her see what Nicole sees.

“I almost did it,” Waverly admits into the safety of Nicole’s chest.  “I had the knife in my hands, pressed against my heart, and she just kept whispering in my ear that I was useless and that no one wanted me.”

“Waverly–”

“But then I…”  She cuts Nicole off, finally lifting her head enough to look at her again.  Her red-rimmed eyes search Nicole’s for a long moment, as if she’s scared of what she might find there.  Scared she might find a trace of truth to what Jolene had told her.  “I started thinking about Doc and Jeremy,” she starts carefully, watching Nicole’s face for her reaction.  “And how they always fight for me.”

Not wanting to make any sudden movements, Nicole just nods silently.

“And Wynonna.”  Waverly is still hesitant, but Nicole just holds her tighter.  “She came back.  She came back, and she never gives up on me.  She…  She walks through fire for me – sometimes literally – and she never lets me feel like I’m not really her sister.”

Waverly bites her lip, the way she always does when she’s working up to something.  Nicole swallows hard, because she’s pretty sure she knows what it is, but she doesn’t want to scare Waverly before she can get there.

“And…  and you…”  She reaches up to touch Nicole’s cheek, and Nicole doesn’t even _breathe,_ afraid to shatter this moment.  “I…  I know that you love me, Nicole.”  Something flashes in Waverly’s eyes, and Nicole prepares for what she knows is coming.  “And I…  I…”

There it is.

Despite Nicole’s best efforts not to spook Waverly, the familiar panic has still risen to overtake her.

She gets it, though.  She does.  She understands why Waverly still can’t say the words.  Every single person she has ever loved has ended up leaving or dying or turning evil.  Sometimes all three.  It’s no wonder Waverly is terrified of it.  She thinks that her love is the kiss of death.

But Nicole knows better.

She’s patient.  She’s waited this long, and she will continue to wait – forever if she has to – until Waverly is ready.  She rolls them over, letting the weight of her body press Waverly down into the mattress, calming her before the panic has a chance to swallow her whole.

“Shh…  It’s okay,” Nicole murmurs as she places a kiss behind Waverly’s ear.  “I know you do, Waverly,” she whispers, settling a little more solidly on top of Waverly, resting their foreheads together.  “I know you do, baby.  It’s okay.”

“Nicole…” Waverly breathes, and her voice is thick with something _else_ now.

Oh.

The reality of their position washes over Nicole all at once, stealing the air from her lungs.  The way Waverly’s fingers are curled into the collar of her pajama shirt.  The way their bare legs are tangled together beneath the blanket.  The way a pleasant shiver ripples through Waverly’s body every time Nicole shifts her weight _just right._

_Oh._

Waverly’s breath is warm on Nicole’s cheek, and she closes her eyes, nuzzling along Waverly’s jaw until their lips finally find each other. 

It’s hesitant.  Barely there.  A far cry from the kissing they’d engaged in while Waverly had been sitting in her lap on the floor.

It’s tentative, but it burns a thousand times hotter than before, because this time, neither of them are weighed down by the things they’ve been holding back for far too long.

Waverly’s tongue gently traces along the seam of Nicole’s lips, and Nicole instinctively meets it with her own, shuddering at the way they brush softly together.  After months of holding so much tension in her muscles and in her gut and in her soul, she feels almost lightheaded from the rush of freedom that’s flowing between them now.

When one of Waverly’s socked feet slides up her bare calf, it brings her back down out of the atmosphere, grounding her back into the moment.  The whimper that chases her tongue when it withdraws from Waverly’s mouth is almost enough to send her spiraling again, but she manages to keep her tenuous grasp on reality for just a bit longer.

“Waverly...”  It sticks in her mouth like taffy, her growing hunger swallowing the warning it was intended to carry. 

Waverly raises her head to silence Nicole with another kiss, but Nicole pulls back farther, leaning up on her elbow to look down at Waverly, her cheeks glowing pink and eyes cloudy with desire.

“Waverly,” she says again, the edges of the word more defined this time.  “Are you…”  She brings her free hand up to cup Waverly’s warm cheek, her thumb stroking over the flushed skin.  “You said _no_ earlier, and I would never…”

“Please,” Waverly begs, her fingers tightening in the front of Nicole’s pajama shirt.  She tugs her down closer, until their noses bump together and Nicole can feel her labored breathing in little puffs against her cheek.  _“I need you,”_ she whispers against Nicole’s lips, her body pushing up off the bed as much as it’s able to with Nicole’s weight draped over it.

_“Waverly…”_   Her voice breaks right along with her resolve, and she slips her tongue back into Waverly’s mouth, swallowing down the moan it draws forth from her lover.  Waverly rolls her entire body against Nicole’s, and it spurs her into action.  Her hand drifts down from Waverly’s cheek, her fingertips brushing over her throat and the dip of her collarbone, tracing along the edge of her flowery camisole top.

She intends to continue lower – to take the weight of Waverly’s breast in her hand and squeeze gently, toying with the pebbled flesh straining beneath the soft silk – but her movement stalls when she feels Waverly’s heart hammering beneath her palm.

_I had the knife in my hands, pressed against my heart…_

The reality of how close Nicole came to losing Waverly without even knowing it hits her with more force than when she’d slammed into the side of the cliff while trying to recover Peacemaker for Wynonna.  Images of Waverly – scared and alone and freezing in that greenhouse, shivering as the biting Purgatory winter sank its teeth into her bones while the devil whispered in her ear – fill Nicole’s mind, hitting her veins like ice.

She tries to focus on the body beneath her – warm now, and pressing into her the same way Waverly’s tongue is pressing into her mouth – but it’s not enough.

It’s not _enough._

“Nicole?” Waverly questions when Nicole remains frozen for a moment too long.  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I…  I need…”

“Tell me,” Waverly says, her voice lower than it had been a moment ago.  Her hand slides up from the front of Nicole’s shirt and threads gently into her hair.  “Tell me what you need.”

It’s not enough, and she needs _more._

She needs to feel the warmth of Waverly’s skin against her own.  She needs to feel the reassurance of Waverly’s pulse racing beneath her fingertips as she chases her pleasure.  She needs to feel Waverly radiating love and lust and _life_ as she climbs higher and higher and higher before Nicole completely dismantles in her in the way that only she can.

Words are failing her, though, and all she can manage is a ragged exhale, but when her hand trails down Waverly’s side and begins pushing at the hem of the shirt that’s already bunched up around Waverly’s ribs, Waverly _understands._

“Yes,” she nods shakily.  _“Yes.”_

She pushes at Nicole’s shoulder enough to urge her up onto her knees, and sits up awkwardly after her with their legs still tangled together.  When Waverly strips her shirt off in one fluid motion before flopping back down against the bed, Nicole begins fumbling with the buttons of her pajama shirt.  By the time she shrugs it off her shoulders, Waverly has already kicked her shorts off, lost and forgotten somewhere under the blanket.

Nicole is flooded with _want._ It winds its fingers through her ribs and tugs her forward like a puppet on a string.  She moves to crawl over Waverly’s naked body, but Waverly stops her with a hand on her chest while the fingers of her other hand curl into Nicole’s waistband.

“These, too,” she says, already starting to drag the star-covered shorts down past Nicole’s hips.  “I want all of you.”

Dropping down to her elbow, Nicole rolls to the side enough that she can help Waverly push her shorts the rest of the way off, shoving them over the side of the bed with her fuzzy black socks.  Before they even hit the floor, Waverly is already grasping at her shoulders, trying desperately to pull Nicole back on top of her.

She goes willingly, slinging a leg over one of Waverly’s and rolling up until she’s covering Waverly’s entire body with her own, slotted together as she presses them down into the mattress, hip to hip and breast to breast and heart to heart.  Waverly immediately begins to squirm beneath her, clutching at her back to hold her closer, closer, _closer,_ and Nicole drops a hand to her side, a calming touch, her slender fingers resting perfectly in the spaces between Waverly’s ribs.

“Easy, baby,” Nicole soothes, placing a lingering kiss over Waverly’s heart.  She feels it trip and stutter against her lips, but it’s still beating.  It’s still _beating,_ fast and strong and true.  Beating for herself and beating for her family and beating for Nicole.

_For **us** ,_ she thinks as she moves up to rest their foreheads together.

“Easy,” she murmurs again, her lips just barely brushing against Waverly’s.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

Waverly’s fingers dig into her back and her shoulders, a whimpered plea hanging in the barely-there space between them, and Nicole gives in. 

Gives in to the relief that they’ve finally overcome the first hurdle in their ability to communicate.  Gives in to the peace of knowing that Waverly is alive, here in her bed and in her arms and in heart.  Gives in to the heat rolling off of Waverly’s naked body, flush against hers, seeping into her skin and igniting her bones.

Nicole surges forward, pouring her heart onto Waverly’s tongue as her hand drags down from Waverly’s ribs to grip at her hip, urging her to begin moving.  Waverly eagerly complies, giving her hips a testing roll, and the moan that Nicole swallows down in response is the sweetest thing she’s ever tasted.

Waverly begins to move her hips in earnest, and Nicole plants her knee a little more steadily as her hand moves back up Waverly’s bowed body until it finds her breast.  She kneads it gently, letting her thumb circle the hardened nipple, and Waverly arches beautifully into her touch, her head dropping back against the pillow with a soft groan.

Taking advantage of the position, Nicole trails a line of open-mouthed kisses from Waverly’s ear, along her jaw, and down the newly exposed column of her throat.  The muscles work as Waverly swallows and gasps, and Nicole grinds her thigh a little more firmly against Waverly’s rocking hips just to feel the moans continue to rumble beneath her lips and tongue.

_“Please,”_ Waverly begs, and Nicole knows that Waverly needs this every bit as much as she does, so she pulls her hand away from Waverly’s breast, replacing it quickly with her mouth as her fingertips drag down Waverly’s side, back past her ribs, and over her hip.

It’s a difficult feat, given that Waverly’s hips immediately chase after hers, but still she manages to push up on her knees slightly, allowing her to create just enough space between them for her to snake her hand between their bodies. 

There’s no hesitation.  No teasing.  No pausing to draw it out. 

Just the smooth glide of her fingers through silky heat, and the sound of her name filling the space between them on a breathless whisper.

She swirls her tongue around Waverly’s nipple a few more times, mirroring the movements of her fingers as they brush gently through Waverly’s folds, but the noises Waverly is making are too tempting, and Nicole can’t resist the urge to drink them straight from Waverly’s lips.  To catch them on her tongue and let them melt into her soul the same way the tension she’s been carrying for the past several days – for longer than that, if she’s completely honest with herself – has melted away under the warmth of the connection she shares with Waverly, the tether stronger now, in this moment, than it ever has been before.

The kiss sends a shudder through Nicole’s entire body, settling low in her belly, coiling tightly around the desire that’s pooling there.  Waverly arches beneath her, and Nicole knows it’s pulling at her, too.  Pulling at the seams that hold her together, stretching her muscles taut like a rubber band waiting to snap.

Nicole’s fingers move of their own accord.  They’ve led the two of them through this dance a hundred times before and they know the steps by heart.  Know when to slide and when to squeeze.  When to circle and when to stroke.  When to flutter lightly and when to press harder.  Waverly’s body is the conductor, setting the tempo and the tone, and Nicole plays her like the symphony that she is.

Waverly’s moans become too much, and she has to pull away from Nicole’s mouth to release them into the open air.  Nicole takes the opportunity to drag her teeth along the cord of Waverly’s neck, stopping to flick her tongue over the rabbiting pulse there before kissing her way back up Waverly’s throat.

_“Waverly,”_ she breathes heavily, directly into Waverly’s ear, and the resulting shiver sparks something deep in her chest.  She drags her nose down, letting her hot breaths puff against Waverly’s skin as she peppers kisses along her jaw, over her chin, up her cheek.

It isn’t until her lips come away salty and wet that she pulls back abruptly, frozen with worry.

Waverly’s eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly there’s a crease across her brow, and tears leak freely down both cheeks.  The needy moans have faded, and now she chokes around a sob as her hand clutches desperately at the pillow bunched up under her head.

“Baby…”  Nicole drops to her elbow, using the hand she’d been holding herself up with to catch Waverly’s flailing hand, stilling her movements and lacing their fingers together with a firm grip.  “Baby, hey…”  She squeezes a little tighter.  “You’re home.  You’re safe now.  You’re home.”

Waverly opens her eyes, the fear darkening them almost beyond recognition.

“I’m here,” Nicole says gently.  “With you.”  She squeezes Waverly’s hand again, grounding them both in this place.  In this moment.  In each other.  “Stay here, baby,” she pleads.  “Stay with me.”

“Nicole,” Waverly rasps, her eyes finally beginning to focus.

“I’m here,” Nicole says again.  She dips her head to press a soft, chaste kiss to Waverly’s lips.  “I’m here.”

“Nicole,” Waverly sighs, relieved, chasing after Nicole’s lips while her hips push back up into Nicole’s other hand.

“Hey…”  Nicole raises her head to look back down at Waverly again.  “We don’t have to keep going.”  She shifts slightly on her elbow, preparing to withdraw her other hand, her idle fingers still resting in the arousal pooled between Waverly’s thighs.  “We can stop now, if you—”

_“No,”_ Waverly hurries to cut her off, the hand that had been digging into Nicole’s shoulder sliding down her arm to catch her around the wrist, keeping her from pulling away.  “Don’t go.”

“Oh, baby…”  Nicole kisses her again quickly.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I promise.”  She lets her weight rest just the slightest bit more heavily against Waverly to prove it.  “But we don’t have to…”

“Nicole,” Waverly says firmly, guiding Nicole’s hand _lower,_ making sure to drag Nicole’s fingers through her folds along the way until they’re just barely pressing at her entrance.  “Please don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?” Nicole asks one more time, chewing on her lip as she searches Waverly’s face for any signs of trepidation.  Waverly nods before tugging their joined hands closer, until they’re nestled just beneath the pillow.  She turns her head and presses her lips to the back of Nicole’s hand, where it’s resting atop her own, their fingers still tangled together.

“Yes,” she finally says, turning back to look at Nicole.  “Please, Nicole.  I need this.”  She pushes her hips up again.  “I need _you.”_

“Okay,” Nicole breathes, gathering Waverly’s wetness on her fingertips until they’re in position again.  “Just keep your eyes on me, baby,” she says, locking eyes with Waverly as she slowly, _deliberately,_ pushes inside.

Waverly’s face goes slack, all sound dying in her throat as her mouth hangs open silently.  She struggles not to let her eyes fall shut, but she manages to keep them open, wide and glassy as they stare distantly back into Nicole’s.

Nicole can feel Waverly’s heartbeat pulsing around her fingers, the muscles quivering as they hold her there, unmoving.  She waits, watching the shadows move across Waverly’s face, until her eyes begin to sharpen again, finally regaining their focus.  There’s a fire in them now, the intensity growing ever stronger, and when Waverly clenches down around her, Nicole knows she’s _ready._

Her fingers curl forward, stroking leisurely at the spongy wall of muscle, and Waverly lets out a strangled moan as her hips buck roughly in response.  Still, she doesn’t look away, and Nicole sees everything she’s ever loved about this woman reflected back at her when she withdraws slowly, her slick fingers tasting the cool air for the briefest of moments before they sink back into Waverly’s heat again.

_“Nicole.”_

She still remembers the first time Waverly ever said her name, over a shared meal at Shorty’s during Waverly’s lunch break, not long after his wake.  A pretty blush dusted her cheeks as she shyly tested out the way it felt in her mouth in place of the more formal _Officer Haught_ she’d been clinging to up until that point.

_Nicole._

She’s said it a million times since then.  When they were still just friends.  When they were stuck in the limbo somewhere between friends and more.  When she’d poured out her heart on Nedley’s couch and taken Nicole’s in return for safekeeping. 

When she calls to see how Nicole’s day is going.  When they greet each other with a quick kiss after a long day of work.  When she asks what Nicole wants for dinner, when she swats Nicole on the shoulder after making a terrible joke, when she can’t reach something on the top shelf. 

When she’s pretending to be mad at Nicole for getting drunk with Wynonna.  When they’re fighting for their lives and she’s terrified that she’s lost Nicole for good.

But none of those times compare to when she says it like _this._

When her body is on fire, singed around the edges as the flame begins to spread.  When her eyes are full of desire and need and everything _else_ that she’s too afraid to put into words yet.  When the rest of the world falls away, and all that’s left is the two of them, sharing a single, wild heartbeat.

Gasped with both the reverence of a prayer and the desperation of a plea is Nicole’s favorite way to hear her name fall from Waverly’s lips.  It burrows under her skin and settles beneath her ribs, taking root there and blooming up into her chest.

“I’m here, Waverly,” she breathes in response, her eyes still fixed on Waverly’s.  “I’m right here.”

The pace she sets is slow and firm, each thrust a full stroke with a slight curl of her fingers as she drags them back out again.  She has no desire to rush this, and judging by the lazy roll of Waverly’s hips, grinding subtly against the heel of her palm with every pass, Waverly is in no hurry for this to end yet, either.

They settle into a steady rhythm – thrust, roll, grind, curl, withdraw, repeat – their panted breaths mingling, punctuated by soft gasps and faint moans and broken versions of their names.  Waverly’s hand slides up Nicole’s arm from where her fingers had still been digging into her wrist, up over her shoulder, until it’s cupping the back of Nicole’s neck, keeping her close.

Waverly seems to be taking Nicole at her word, remaining lost in Nicole’s gaze, her eyes hooded but still open, focused on her lover with an intensity that Nicole can feel in her very soul.  It’s incredibly intimate, watching the need dance in Waverly’s eyes, the undercurrent of unspoken love swirling beneath it in the fathomless depths, while she makes love to her with slow, deliberate strokes, tinged with urgency but not with haste.

Their story had been one of baby steps and a connection that had formed gradually over time, the same way this is building between them right now.  But even the slowest burning fuse eventually reaches the powder keg at the end.  Flashes of Waverly storming into Nedley’s office and tackling Nicole onto the couch before permanently branding her with a searing kiss flash through her mind, and Nicole can feel the same desperate resolve in the way Waverly is clenching and fluttering around her fingers.

She knows what that means.

Waverly is close.

_Really_ close.

Never looking away, Nicole squeezes their joined hands a little – a reminder that they’re still here, still safe, in this moment, _together_ – and begins to rock her hips behind her hand, adding just a bit _more_ to her thrusts.  Waverly’s eyes lose their focus for a moment, until she draws her lower lip between her teeth, determined not to let her concentration slip before she’s ready to let everything go.

Her free hand slides back down from Nicole’s neck, over her shoulders and down her back, until it grips at her hip tightly.  Nicole continues to let them match the rhythm of her hand, bracing behind it so her fingers can reach as deep as possible on every stroke, drawing a gasp from Waverly with every push in and a muted whimper with every temporary withdrawal.

But then Waverly’s fingers dig into the flexing muscles of Nicole’s ass, and she plants her foot against the mattress, lifting her leg just enough to press up against Nicole so that every roll of her hips drags along the toned muscle of Waverly’s thigh, leaving behind the evidence of her own need.

It’s enough to make Nicole cry out, her rhythm faltering for the first time since they started this dance.

_“Waverly,”_ she chokes out, practically a sob as she tries to steady herself.  Tries to give Waverly the relief she’s been chasing after all this time.  Tries not to lose herself to the pleasure that’s burning through her veins like rocket fuel that’s just been ignited by the spark of a single touch.

“Don’t stop,” Waverly pleads, pushing herself onto Nicole’s stalled fingers again.  “But I want you, too.  I _need_ you, too.”  She digs her fingers in a little deeper and urges Nicole to roll her hips again, pulling a strangled moan from both of them.  _“Please.”_

The look in Waverly’s eyes says it all, both vulnerable and voracious, and it tells Nicole everything she needs to know.

She starts up again, pushing herself down against Waverly as she rocks behind her own thrusts, and the tingling heat that spirals out from the places where they are joined flows through both of them, a completed circuit that conducts a current through their limbs, turning them into a livewire.  Waverly is fluttering wildly around her fingers now, and Nicole’s hips pick up the pace, gliding easily on the slickness painting Waverly’s thigh.

Waverly clenches down violently, holding Nicole in place, and she curls her fingers forward to stroke the spot that she knows will push Waverly over the edge.

It’s a powerful thing, primal and raw, watching the wave crest in her lover’s eyes until it finally breaks, crashing down over both of them.  It tosses them about until they’re left shuddering and gasping, the slowly receding tide pulling them back out to sea, rocking them gently on waves of bliss.

The tension in Waverly’s arched body eventually bleeds away, and she collapses back against the bed, finally breaking eye-contact with Nicole as her head lolls to the side so she can pull Nicole down on top of her.  Nicole’s heaving breaths puff out against Waverly’s neck, but she can’t relax completely, something still stirring deep in her belly.

Maybe it’s the relief of knowing they’ve taken the first step down the road to open communication. 

Maybe it’s the freedom of knowing she’s pushed past a wall that’s been keeping her locked on the outside since the very beginning. 

Maybe it’s fear of realizing just how close they came to losing each other _again._  

Maybe it’s the way their hearts are beating as one – still racing, but synced up in a way that goes beyond anything they’ve ever experienced before.

Maybe it’s the peace of being entirely consumed with Waverly, hands still joined beneath her pillow, completely enveloped in the warmth of her embrace under the blanket in the safety of their bed.

Maybe it’s the words that were on the tip of Waverly’s tongue, rising closer to the surface than they’ve ever been, before skittering back into the safety of the guarded corners of Waverly’s heart.

Or maybe it’s simply the fact that she’s still buried deep inside her lover, feeling every pulse and quiver around her fingertips as the heat from Waverly’s skin seeps into her own, settling deep and pooling low.

Regardless of the reason, Nicole lifts herself up again after a few moments, just enough to press her lips to Waverly’s bobbing throat.  But she doesn’t stop there, trailing kisses over her neck and starting a path down to her chest.

“What are you doing?” Waverly pants, still catching her breath.

Nicole moves back up to drop a chaste kiss to Waverly’s lips before leaning over to kiss behind her ear.

“I’m not done,” she breathes, a shudder rippling through Waverly’s body beneath her.

“Done with…  with what?” Waverly asks, her eyes wide, but still dark and wild from their recent activity.

“I’m not finished loving you yet,” Nicole rasps, her voice gravelly and rough with want.

She gives her fingers a testing pump, her heart skipping a beat when Waverly lets out a low groan as her hips reflexively buck in response.

_“Oh,”_ Waverly gasps, a mix of bewilderment and renewed lust. 

Nicole watches her closely, waiting for either consent to continue, or a request to relent and just hold her close, which she would also happily do without a moment of hesitation or hint of disappointment.

Waverly’s cheeks are flushed with exertion, her lips parted slightly as she sucks in rapid, shallow breaths, the light from the window catching the strands of natural highlights in her hair, and Nicole wonders not for the first time if this is what heaven is like as she takes in the subtle, ethereal glow of the woman she loves.

When Waverly clenches slightly around Nicole’s fingers, drawing her lower lip between her teeth and nodding her assent, it’s all the permission Nicole needs, and something rumbles in her chest as she begins to kiss her way down between Waverly’s breasts. 

She eventually moves low enough that she has to untangle their fingers before she can continue any further in her descent.  Waverly is reluctant to relinquish the connection, whimpering slightly at the loss, but as Nicole resumes her slow thrusts, dipping her tongue into Waverly’s navel as her now free hand wraps around Waverly’s hip with a steadying grip, Waverly threads her fingers into Nicole’s hair, scratching gentle encouragement against her scalp, and the distressed whine from before morphs into a needy moan instead.

Nicole’s senses are overloaded with Waverly, Waverly, _Waverly._  

She looks up the landscape of Waverly’s body to see her head thrown back against the pillow, the cords of her neck pulled taut, her breasts bouncing gently with the rise and fall of every ragged breath she draws.

Her ears are pounding with the rush of her heated blood, but even through the heavy beat, she can still make out the sound of Waverly murmuring her name, whispering her desires into the otherwise quiet room and pleading for them to be made real.

Waverly’s scent is strong as Nicole noses further down Waverly’s abdomen, past the point of her hip bones, and her cheeks burn when she realizes she can smell her own lust mingled with Waverly’s, still glistening on the thigh that’s now thrown up over her shoulder as she settles between Waverly’s legs.

Her fingers continue to glide in and out of Waverly smoothly, firmly, and Waverly is tight around them, drawing her deeper with every thrust, the pressure against her scalp gently increasing as Waverly tries to urge her head lower.

And the taste, _god,_ she can already taste Waverly, salt and tangy musk, the evidence of their previous lovemaking smeared up over her pubic bone, thick and sticky on Nicole’s tongue as she kisses the rest of the way down to her final destination.

Waverly is spread open and waiting for her when she finally arrives at her goal, and Nicole pauses for moment to take in the sight before her.  To watch her fingers disappear inside Waverly’s heat, framed by glistening lips and quivering thighs.  To let her breath ghost over the swollen flesh and watch Waverly’s hips jump in response.  To gaze back up into her lover’s eyes and watch them flutter when she curls her fingers just right before dragging them out and pushing them back in again.

It’s moments like these when Nicole doesn’t understand how she got so lucky.  They’ve had their fair share of stumbling blocks; false starts and missteps and losing sight of the path along the way.  But they always find their way back to each other, even through the cursed magic that altered the very fabric of reality around them. 

It should scare her.  How vulnerable and exposed she is.  How willing she is to do anything not to lose it.

But it doesn’t.

Now that she has this, she never wants to let it go.  She wants Waverly, _all_ of Waverly, even the demon-filled encounters that come with being a part of her world.  They may be bent in places, but they’re not broken, and they will stand strong together, a united force against the outside world.

“Nicole, _please…_ ” Waverly begs, bringing her back to the moment at hand, and Nicole finally lowers her head with a renewed hunger, fueled by the resolve of knowing this is _exactly_ where she is meant to be.

The moment Nicole’s tongue dips into Waverly’s folds, Waverly cries out, the desperate sounds punctuated by her heels digging into Nicole’s back, keeping her as close as is physically possible in their current position. It causes Nicole to moan against Waverly, the vibrations making her hips buck sharply against Nicole’s chin, and she drapes an arm over Waverly’s stomach to hold her steady and pull her closer, allowing Waverly to start up a deliberate grind against Nicole’s tongue.

She alternates between gentle sucking with her lips, and long, broad strokes with her flattened tongue, all the while, her fingers still moving inside Waverly in a way that makes nonsensical words from dead languages spill from her lips.  Nicole hums her encouragement, and Waverly’s back arches, pushing herself further into Nicole’s mouth.

Nicole’s entire world has narrowed to this one moment, completely surrounded by Waverly, thighs clamped tightly around her head, arousal coating her cheeks and chin and nose and dripping into her palm.  It’s overwhelming in the best way possible, and Nicole is lightheaded with the rush of it, reading how close Waverly is by the way her muscles tense up and her voice changes pitch.

Using the point of her tongue now, she draws tight, rapid circles as she twists her fingers forward, directly massaging the spot that makes Waverly fall apart.

She loves Waverly bright and sunshiny, charming the entire town with her smile and wave.

She loves Waverly quick and sharp, rivaling even Wynonna with her sarcastic wit.

She loves Waverly bold and strong, going toe-to-toe with a demon and staring it down into the abyss.

But there’s nothing she loves more than when Waverly is like _this,_ reduced to a trembling mess beneath her as Nicole brings her to pieces the way nobody else can.

Nicole holds on tight and rides out the storm until the shuddering and bucking settles into lazy rolls of her hips, Waverly’s legs going slack around her as she melts limply back into the mattress.  She withdraws her fingers carefully, cleaning them off on the blanket, and wipes her chin with the back of her hand as she crawls back up to drape herself alongside Waverly’s thoroughly spent form.

Waverly immediately turns toward her, and Nicole rolls them until she’s on her back with Waverly settled against her chest, pulling her in closer with one arm while the other hand clumsily drags the blanket back up their bodies so she can tuck it up under Waverly’s chin.

“I’m still not finished loving you yet,” Nicole whispers in Waverly’s ear.  Waverly lifts her chin to look at Nicole with sleepy eyes, raising a questioning eyebrow at her.  “I’ll _never_ be finished loving you, Waverly Earp,” Nicole continues, and Waverly immediately stiffens in her arms, a brief moment of panic flashing in her eyes.  It doesn’t last, though, and she relaxes back into Nicole’s embrace, nuzzling into her neck as she clings to her a little tighter.  Nicole smiles, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, satisfied in knowing that the love is returned, even if it has to remain unspoken for a while longer.

They lie in silence for a long time, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, legs tangled together as their breaths slowly even out into a steady rhythm.  The soft light from the window casts a glow over them, matching the warmth still radiating from their skin, and for a moment, Nicole thinks Waverly might have drifted off to sleep.

She’s wrong, though, and it startles her when Waverly speaks up a few minutes later.

“I didn’t like it.”

“You…  you didn’t?” Nicole asks, lifting her head to look at Waverly with a frown, something icy instantly clawing its way through her chest.  “Waverly, we... We didn’t have to do any of that.  You could have told me.  I wouldn’t ha–”

“No, no,” Waverly hastily interrupts.  “Not _that.”_   She leans up to kiss away Nicole’s worry, humming a little when she can still taste herself on Nicole’s tongue.  “I _loved_ that,” she murmurs as she settles her head back down on Nicole’s chest.

Her fingers begin nervously tracing random patterns on the bare skin of Nicole’s stomach under the blanket.  It’s a thing she does when she’s trying to work herself up to something, so Nicole doesn’t say anything, just holding her close until she’s ready to continue.

“I didn’t like it.  When she was flirting with you.”  She withdraws her hand from Nicole’s stomach and pulls it in toward her own chest protectively.  “When she put her hands on you.”

“I didn’t like it, either,” Nicole firmly agrees.  “I…  I don’t even know why I let it happen,” she sighs, staring at the ceiling while she tries to cut through the fog of everything that happened while she was under Jolene’s spell.

“Hey…” Waverly says quietly.  “I know it wasn’t your fault.  I wasn’t blaming you.”  She tilts her head up to kiss reassurances into the underside of Nicole’s chin.  “I just…”  The patterns start up along Nicole’s ribs again, and she has to resist the urge to flinch at the light touch.  “She looked right at me when she did it.  She knew _exactly_ which button to push.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Nicole mutters darkly  as her mind catches on something else that she’d forgotten about in the midst of the bigger picture.

“I know,” Waverly mumbles sadly.  “I know I shouldn’t have shut you out.  I really am sorry, Nicole.  I promise I’ll try to do better,” she says as she begins to retreat from Nicole’s embrace.

“No, it’s not that,” Nicole clarifies, hurrying to gather Waverly back up in her arms and keep her close.  “She…”  She trails off, frustrated with herself for even being upset about this after everything else that happened, but it had definitely touched a raw nerve, and it’s been bothering her ever since she’d regained control over herself again.

“What is it, baby?” Waverly asks, pushing up on her elbow to look down at Nicole.  “You can tell me anything.”  She reaches out and brushes the hair away from Nicole’s face, trailing her fingers down her cheek in the process.

Nicole turns into the touch, chewing on her lip for a moment before turning back to look at Waverly again.

“She called me _Nikki,”_ she grits out, the muscles in her jaw flexing at the memory of Jolene’s sickly-sweet voice dripping honey all over the nickname that dredges up feelings she’s tried to keep buried for over a decade now.

“She _what?”_   Waverly’s eyes widen, a little shocked.  “You _hate_ that name.”

“Yeah,” is all she can manage in return, staring straight ahead at the ceiling again.

“Do you…” Waverly hesitates, nervously playing with a lock of Nicole’s hair.  “Do you want to talk about it?  You don’t have to,” she hurries to add, not wanting to push an already sore subject.  “But you can.  If you wanted to.”

“I know it’s stupid,” Nicole mumbles after a moment of silence.  “It’s just…” She sighs and turns back to Waverly.  “It’s just that my parents…  They _always_ called me that, no matter how many times I asked them not to.  And I _hate_ how it used to make me feel.”  Her eyes fall shut against the burn that’s building behind them.  “And I hated that Jolene’s fucking spell made me let _her_ call me that.”

“Why did they call you that?” Waverly asks tentatively, her thumb stroking Nicole’s reddened cheek.

“I don’t know,” Nicole says, much more sharply than she means to.

“Okay…” Waverly flinches a little.  “Sorry.  I shouldn’t have asked you that.”  She starts to pull her hand away from Nicole’s cheek, but Nicole catches it and holds it in place.

“No, that’s not…”  She squeezes Waverly’s hand for reassurance.  “It’s…  I really _don’t_ know.”  Her head falls back against the pillow, Waverly’s hand still held against her cheek.  “I mean, I guess most parents have cutsie nicknames for their kids when they’re little.”

Waverly nods, her thumb stroking soothing circles.

“But my parents…”  Her jaw clenches as she swallows against her anger.  “When I got older – when I was a teenager, and even toward the end of high school – I asked them over and over again to _please_ not call me that.  It made me feel like such a child.  And it’s just…  it’s just not _me.”_

“And they didn’t respect your wishes?”  Waverly frowns.

“Respect?”  Nicole snorts.  “They don’t know the meaning of the word.”  Her tone drops a little.  “I don’t know why I thought they would respect my wishes about this.  They never did about anything else.”

Waverly stays quiet, and Nicole appreciates that she’s giving her the space to work through this.  It’s a sensitive subject, but Jolene had stirred up all kinds of sediment from the bottom her heart, leaving clouds of it swirling inside her chest, and she’s grateful that Waverly is so willing to help her filter it all back out again.

“It’s just…”  She turns her head back toward Waverly, ignoring the building tears.  _“Nikki_ isn’t who I am.”  Her eyes plead for Waverly to understand.  ”Just like ‘finding a husband to take care of me’ isn’t who I am.  Just like _not_ being a cop isn’t who I am.”

“I know,” Waverly whispers.  “I know, baby.”

“I wasn’t even allowed to define myself with something as simple and basic as my own name, and every time someone else calls me _Nikki,_ I feel like that agency is being taken away from me all over again.”  A single tear finally spills over, trickling down her cheek from the corner of her eye.  “And Jolene…  She kept calling me that, in the same patronizing way that my parents used to, and I just stood there _smiling_ about it, even though I knew inside that it felt so wrong.”  Her voice breaks over the final words, the memory sharp and painful.

“Shhhh…  It’s okay,” Waverly murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.  “She’s gone now, and your _real_ family knows who you really are.”  She pulls back enough to look Nicole in the eye again.  _“Nicole,_ the Sheriff-in-training.  _Nicole,_ the voice of reason.  _Nicole,_ the loyal best friend.”  She pauses for a moment, flashing her megawatt smile.  _“Nicole,_ my best baby,” she adds with a hint of sing-song in her voice, scrunching her face up in an adorable grin.

Giving her a watery smile, Nicole pulls her down for a kiss – chaste, but warm – and the churned up debris from her past finally begins to settle again, the tension in her chest loosening as Waverly’s mouth moves against hers.

“Fuck Jolene.  And fuck Nikki,” Waverly grins against her lips before kissing her again.  “And fuck your parents, too,” she mutters, disgust pulling at the soft edges of her features when she leans back up onto her elbow.

Nicole tries to laugh, but it comes out as more of a half-sob, her relief escaping the only way it knows how.  She tugs Waverly back down, urging her to settle in against her chest again, and Waverly happily squirms until she’s comfortable, throwing a leg up over Nicole’s hips to complete the connection. 

They lie in pleasant silence for a long while, until something else begins to niggle at the back of Nicole’s mind.  She tries to ignore it, but now that it’s there, it keeps growing until it’s pushing at her with uncomfortable pressure.

“Speaking of parents…” Nicole starts tentatively when she finally gathers the courage to broach the subject, and Waverly immediately goes rigid in her arms. 

“Nicole…”

A voice in her mind screams at her to just let this go for now, but the calmer, more rational side of her brain tells her this isn’t something she can just sweep under the rug like everything else Earp-related.

“Waverly, I know you’re excited to have her back,” she begins carefully, keeping her voice soft and non-confrontational.  It’s the same comforting demeanor that makes her so good at her job.  “I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like for you.  And the girlfriend in me is _so_ extremely happy for you.  More than you could know.”

She leaves a lingering kiss on Waverly’s forehead to prove her point before shifting her head on the pillow enough that she can see Waverly’s face.  Her brow is furrowed, and she’s staring off into space rather than looking back up at Nicole.

“But I’m also a cop,” she continues softly.  “And as you just pointed out, I’m not just any cop.  I’m the Sheriff-in-training.  I know I didn’t handle things very well at the station yesterday, but I wasn’t wrong about the fact that there’s a fugitive felon running around with your sister right now…”  She trails off, hoping Waverly will finally pick up the thread of this conversation.

“I know,” Waverly eventually mumbles after an awkward, heavy silence.  “But, Nicole…”  She tilts her head up to look Nicole in the eyes, her entire face shrouded in a delicate veil of hope, and Nicole’s heart lurches painfully in her chest.

“Waverly.  Baby.  I know that the circumstance of the fire changes things for you guys – and even for me – but regardless of that, the fact remains that she still assaulted a correctional officer _and_ the warden while escaping _federal psychiatric custody._   She’s a fugitive, Waverly – one that some might consider a _dangerous_ fugitive – and I don’t really know what it is you’re expecting from me.  It’s not the sort of thing you can ask me to just… look the other way over.  It just isn’t, baby.”

“Okay, first of all…” Waverly finally pipes up, flopping over on her back next to Nicole and holding up her hands to start ticking off on her fingers. 

Her tone isn’t aggressive, or even defensive; it’s more akin to the lecture-mode she sometimes enters when she’s educating the team on an important piece of research she’s just uncovered.  Nicole is grateful for this at least, but she still dreads where it might be leading, and the sort of no-win position she’s about to potentially find herself in.

“First of all,” Waverly says again, counting on the first finger, “that _correctional officer_ was actually a Revenant.  One that Wynonna had to kill _twice,_ because she didn’t have Peacemaker with her the first time.”

“Wh–” Nicole starts, rolling up on her elbow with shock evident on her face, but Waverly doesn’t give her a chance to finish, already ticking off the next finger.

“And second, the _warden_ tried to lock Wynonna up, and was going to pay said Revenant to kill her and hide the evidence, until Wynonna decapitated it with her transport cuffs and tossed the head in the warden’s trash can.”

Nicole tries to say something, but her mouth is hanging open and not responding to any commands.

“Oh, and third…” Waverly adds, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she foregoes the finger-counting to reach up and nudge Nicole’s mouth closed with a fingertip at her chin.  _“Sheriff_ Nedley already knows about all of this, and he’s okay with it.”

“He what?” Nicole finally manages, the last piece of information jolting her out of her shock.  “He’s okay with an escaped felon running around our town?”

“We’ve got a lot worse than that running around our town, Nicole,” Waverly laughs, but she sobers up quickly at the look on Nicole’s face.

“Waverly…” she says sternly.

“Sorry.  Sorry,” Waverly says, softening a little.  “You’re right.  This isn’t funny.  Especially for you.  But I’m telling the truth.  Nedley and Wynonna made a deal.  He’s even the one that let the two of them out of the drunk tank holding cell.”

_“Nedley_ let them out?”  Nicole frowns.  “I figured Jolene hoodoo-voodooed someone into walking them right out the front door like they owned the place.”

Waverly quirks an eyebrow at her, trying not to laugh again.

“What?” Nicole asks, still trying to process everything she’s just been told.  It’s a lot.  A _lot._

“Hoodoo-voodooed?”  Waverly giggles.  “You’ve been spending too much time with Doc.”

“Shut up,” Nicole mumbles, rolling her eyes.  “I think he’s kind of lonely,” she says quietly, looking down at Waverly again.  “Sometimes I hang out with him for a while at Shorty’s when I get off shift if you’re busy with Wynonna.”

“I’m sure he appreciates it,” Waverly says, reaching up to run her fingers along the crease in Nicole’s brow.  “Even if he’s not the best at showing it.”  She chews on her lip for a moment.  “Not many of us are,” she whispers.

Nicole catches her hand and brings it to her lips, kissing her palm and then each one of her fingertips before bringing it down to rest against her heart.

“It’s okay,” she smiles.  “I’m getting pretty good at reading you guys.”  She winks and lets her dimples show, and for a brief moment, something flashes in Waverly’s eyes again that makes Nicole’s heart beat just a little bit faster.  “Anyway,” she shakes her head and clears her throat.  “Tell me more about this ‘deal’ Wynonna made with Nedley.”

“Well…  Since he knows the whole truth now – about the fire and the escape and that Jolene was the demon – he’s agreed to keep everything under his hat.”  Waverly tilts her head to the side with a soft smile.  “We know after he talked to you and me the other day that he’s always had a soft spot for her, so he told Wynonna that if Mama promises to stay off the grid out here and not go wandering around town or showing her face at Shorty’s again, then he’ll keep vocally supporting the belief that she fled the area as soon as she escaped.”

It makes sense.  With Jolene out of the picture, no longer possessing Michelle or trying to kill Waverly, there’s no real reason for her to remain locked up, especially in a psychiatric facility.  And the truth about the warden and his Revenant helper-monkey certainly changes things.  But it’s not exactly the sort of thing they can explain to the authorities.  This compromise is about as good as they’re going to get, and even though at its heart, the idea of covering it up still makes Nicole feel a little on edge, she appreciates that Nedley’s involvement and approval lets her off the hook with the people she cares about.

It won’t be her proudest moment, but she thinks it’s something she can learn to live with. 

Especially for Waverly’s sake.

“Say something…” Waverly eventually says, her voice trembling, and Nicole realizes she’s been lost in her own head again.

“Okay,” she breathes, leaning down to give Waverly a lingering kiss.

“Okay?” Waverly asks, eyes searching Nicole’s when they finally part.

“Okay,” Nicole says again, reaching out to caress Waverly’s cheek.  “If your mama keeps up her end of the bargain, then I can adjust to honoring Nedley’s deal.”

Waverly’s entire body deflates next to Nicole, relief oozing from her pores, and the shadows melt from her face like the sun rising over the peak of the mountains on the horizon of the homestead.  Nicole kisses her again, a little more firmly this time, and then settles back down beside her, gathering Waverly up in her arms and pulling her in until Waverly’s back is flush against her chest and Nicole’s chin is tucked just over Waverly’s shoulder.

It’s cozy under the blanket, the heat still radiating from their naked skin keeping them warm, and Nicole thinks she could spend the rest of her life burrowed in this cocoon, spooning the woman she loves.  They settle in a little more comfortably, Waverly’s head resting on one of her arms while the other is wrapped tightly around her torso, holding her close, her knees tucked up behind Waverly’s. 

They’re a perfect fit, in every possible way.

The exhaustion of the last couple of days finally catches up to them, seeping into their bones and weighing them down to the point that Nicole is sure they’re sinking into the very mattress itself.  It’s a little dangerous, letting themselves fall asleep naked like this – they’ve learned that the hard way on more than one occasion – but they locked the bedroom door when they came up here earlier, unsure of who else might still be lingering outside the house or in the barn, and honestly, Nicole can’t bring herself to give a shit beyond that right now.

Just as she’s right on the precipice of sleep, Waverly shifts slightly in her arms.

“Nicole?”  It’s so quiet, Nicole barely hears it.

“Mmm?” she grunts in response, only half-aware.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else you need to tell me?”

She’s instantly awake, fear spiking straight through her.  What else could Waverly possibly think she was still hiding from her?

“W-what?” she stutters.  “Waverly, I swear I…”

Waverly trembles in her arms, and for a moment, Nicole is worried that she’s crying again.  Until she tilts her head back to look over her shoulder at Nicole, and Nicole sees the shit-eating grin all over her face.

_“Standing there with your dick in your hands?”_  She raises an eyebrow, snickering.  “Really?”

Nicole groans loudly, shoving at Waverly’s hip, but Waverly just smacks her hand away, still snickering.

“You know what I meant.”  She rolls her eyes with a frustrated grumble.

“I have _never_ heard anyone say that,” Waverly laughs.  “Is that really even a thing, or did you just pull that out of your ass because you were grumpy?”

_“Listen,”_ she says, biting playfully at Waverly’s shoulder while her fingers threaten to dig into her exposed ribs.  “When you live in a dorm that’s primarily filled with testosterone-fueled alpha males for six months, you tend to pick up a few things.”

“Well, I _hope_ you weren’t picking _those_ things up.”

That comment _does_ earn her a quick tickle, and Nicole has to tighten her hold to keep Waverly from squirming away as she squeals.  Waverly eventually yields, and Nicole lets up, allowing Waverly to settle back against her again.

“I _am_ sorry, you know,” Waverly says quietly.  “That I made you feel like you were standing there like an idiot.”

“I know.”  She leans down to kiss Waverly’s jaw, just beneath her ear.  She won’t say that it’s okay, because it’s not.  But she does know that it wasn’t Waverly’s _intention_ to make her feel the way she did.  “I know.”

She reaches up to tip Waverly’s chin back enough that she can kiss her again, long and languid, and the feeling of Waverly melting completely into her embrace is enough to give Nicole’s heart wings, fluttering and soaring in her chest.  This is exactly where she’s meant to be.

Wrapping herself fully around Waverly, it’s hard for her to tell where she ends and Waverly begins, though she’s not sure she really wants to know.  They both begin to drift, and just before they’re finally lulled into a blissful slumber, Waverly giggles again.

“Wassrong?” Nicole mumbles sleepily, barely clinging to consciousness.

“I think I’m still wearing _one_ of my socks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading. I am always up for questions and discussions.
> 
> You can find me on both Twitter and Tumblr: @iamthegaysmurf


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